Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 329

“…We won.”

Baek Cheon spoke, his voice trembling.

They had won.

Chung Myung had finally defeated Hye-yeon of Shaolin.

“That damned brat….”

Baek Cheon bit his lip hard.

He should be happy.

He should be leaping with the joy that surged within him.

But Baek Cheon could not celebrate. He felt like if he spoke, he would cry immediately.

He was desperately trying to hold back his tears, biting his lip tightly and clutching at his sleeve.

“Sasuk!”

Everyone seemed to feel the same; even Yoon Jong’s voice, as he gripped Baek Cheon’s shoulder, was tinged with emotion.

How anxiously had they waited?

Chung Myung never loses.

That was an unwavering belief for the disciples of Mount Hua.

And that was why they were even more anxious.

Of course, even if Chung Myung were to return defeated, their faith would not waver in the slightest. But it was clear that Chung Myung himself would find it difficult to accept that defeat.

That was why they desperately wanted him to win.

If the knees of the one who silently carried Mount Hua on his small back were to buckle, it would be more painful than cutting off their own knees to watch it.

“…He won, Sasuk! That rascal won!”

Jo Gul shouted, clenching both fists tightly.

“Yes. He won….”

But at that moment.

Yoo Iseol, who had been quietly watching the arena, spoke in a subdued voice.

“…Something’s different than usual.”

“…Huh?”

Baek Cheon looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“What do you mean?”

Yoo Iseol’s brow furrowed slightly, a rare sign of worry on her usually calm face.

“…That.”

Yoo Iseol’s face was somewhat subtle, unlike her usual self.

“He’s up to no good.”

“… .”

“Huh?”

Baek Cheon’s head snapped towards the arena.

Surely not?

Heo Do-jin, watching Chung Myung point his sword at Hye-yeon, couldn’t take his eyes off him in astonishment.

And it seemed he wasn’t the only one surprised.

“…Wasn’t that the Buddha’s Light Halo just now?”

“Good heavens. To have mastered even the Buddha’s Light Halo, and to have overcome it….”

The sect leaders were silent, shocked.

The Buddha’s Light Halo was known as the strongest defense of Shaolin.

Everyone knew Hye-yeon was young and not perfect, but it was still the Buddha’s Light Halo!

Yet, Chung Myung had broken through it, forcing Hye-yeon to his knees.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. “He broke the Halo…” someone whispered in disbelief.

“…The real genius was someone else all along.”

“Indeed.”

“I thought that being called the best of the younger generation was an overstatement, but… it feels like that title didn’t properly express who that child is.”

Praises poured forth.

But Heo Do-jin saw the hidden feelings in their words.

They were happy that Shaolin was losing, and ashamed that Chung Myung had proven them wrong.

‘In the end, people are like this.’

Heo Do-jin knew.

Although the leaders of the Nine Great Sects acted grand, those here were, in the end, just people. Just because they held high positions didn’t necessarily mean they were of a high caliber, nor did they know any great truths.

They were merely those who were slightly stronger or slightly smarter and had taken the position of sect leader. Or perhaps they simply had a high seniority.

“The result is a little different than expected. The Abbot must have quite a complicated mind.”

“Indeed.”

Heo Do-jin glanced at Beop Jeong.

As expected, the old monk’s face was as stiff as it could possibly be.

‘It’s understandable.’

It would have been better not to have reached the finals in the first place.

Rather than being defeated by Mount Hua in the finals, with all the martial world watching.

All the glory that Shaolin had prepared to give to Hye-yeon would now belong to Mount Hua and the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua. The more they had prepared, the more they would have to give up.

Besides….

‘This will shake the landscape of the martial world.’

Having the best of the younger generation was never a small matter.

Moreover, Mount Hua had proven that their disciples were the best of the younger generation. This victory would be the final stamp on that proof.

What would happen to a sect that possessed both the best of the younger generation and the strongest of the current generation?

Even those here would be wondering how to get on Mount Hua’s good side. If this snowball rolled rapidly….

‘The order of the Jianghu, represented by the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families, might collapse.’

And this might be the price for the sins committed by the Nine Great Sects.

If Mount Hua had still been affiliated with the Nine Great Sects at this moment, the result of this competition would have only been a matter of the internal rankings of the Nine Great Sects fluctuating.

But now, Mount Hua was not one of the Nine Great Sects, and to bring Mount Hua back, one of the sects would have to be expelled.

Who would do that?

Shaolin, who had lost the initiative to Mount Hua?

Heo Do-jin gave a subtle smile and stared at Beop Jeong.

‘Abbot, you must be in a terrible state.’

Beop Jeong’s fist, hidden within his yellow robes, was clenched so tightly that it was drawing blood. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fist so tightly it bled.

Even as he watched Chung Myung pointing his sword at Hye-yeon’s neck, he couldn’t believe it.

‘What should I do about this? Amitabha.’

Everyone gathered here had clearly witnessed the collapse of Shaolin’s pride. Words travel a thousand miles without rest. Today’s events would spread like wildfire throughout the world in an instant.

Beop Jeong frowned and tried to bite his lip, but he forced himself to compose his expression.

‘I must show composure.’

If he could show composure despite the defeat, people would believe that Shaolin still possessed power.

For those who were ready to believe that Shaolin was still strong, simply giving them a hint would be enough.

Beop Jeong slowly unclenched his pale fist.

What he had to do now was very simple.

Praise the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua.

By acknowledging Chung Myung’s existence and raising his status, the victor would also gain legitimacy, and Shaolin’s dignity, having readily admitted defeat, could also be preserved.

Beop Jeong slowly rose from his seat.

‘First, I will declare the victory of the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua and acknowledge the defeat.’

The plan had gone awry, so it would take more time, but if he could manage it well, the day would eventually come when Shaolin’s power would be unleashed.

“This competition is….”

It was the moment when Beop Jeong was about to declare Chung Myung’s victory.

Whoosh.

Chung Myung retrieved his sword and turned his body sharply.

Beop Jeong’s mouth snapped shut. He looked foolish, shouting about victory to a man who was already leaving. His words would only matter if Cheong Myeong stopped. Would he?

Cheong Myeong turned his back and glanced around the dusty arena. He bent down, picked up the scabbard for his plum blossom sword from the ground, and slid the blade back in with a sharp *scrrriiitch*.

He tucked the sword at his side, the worn leather creaking softly. Then, he straightened his white robes, smoothing out the wrinkles with quick, impatient hands.

Beop Jeong nodded heavily.

He thought, ‘He is a disciple of Mount Hua, after all.’

Cheong Myeong’s words and actions might be a bit rude, but he seemed to know how to finish a fair fight.

Whether Beop Jeong was right or not, Cheong Myeong, having tidied his robes, straightened his posture. Then, he clasped his hands together.

Now, he would extend those hands in a gesture of respect, and Beop Jeong could declare Cheong Myeong the victor.

For now, Cheong Myeong would take all the glory, but someday…

That was the moment.

Hmm?

Cheong Myeong, his hands still clasped, glanced at Beop Jeong.

Actually, there was nothing particularly strange about it. Throughout the entire martial arts competition, the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua seemed aware of Beop Jeong.

Even so, Beop Jeong was surprised by the slight, uneven smile on Cheong Myeong’s lips.

A smile?

Of course, smiling wasn’t strange.

It would be stranger not to smile when his victory in the Grand Martial Arts Competition was confirmed.

But that smile made Beop Jeong uneasy.

Cheong Myeong and Beop Jeong’s eyes met again.

The moment he saw the curve in Cheong Myeong’s eyes, Beop Jeong’s heart sank.

No!

He didn’t know exactly what Cheong Myeong was planning, but it was clear he was about to cause trouble.

Beop Jeong was determined to stop him. He was about to shout loudly.

But before he could open his mouth, Cheong Myeong extended his clasped hands towards Hae Yeon and shouted loudly.

“Cheong Myeong of Mount Hua knows he is not good enough and gives up this match.”

Beop Jeong froze, like a stone statue.

Hae Yeon, who had received the gesture of respect, stared at Cheong Myeong with a blank face, as if he didn’t understand.

Silence.

A silence so deep you could hear a pin drop fell over the Shaolin Temple.

And then…

Thud.

Baek Cheon covered his face with his hands.

“…He did it.”

Yoo Iseol muttered beside him in a small voice.

“Idiot.”

Yoon Jong and Jo Gul stood with their mouths open, unable to speak.

Baek Sang, watching from behind, laughed in dismay.

“Heh heh heh… There’s a limit to being crazy… That crazy bastard.”

The Mount Hua disciples were shocked, but it was nothing compared to Beop Jeong’s shock.

His eyes were bloodshot.

A rough roar, not like the abbot of Shaolin, erupted.

“W-what are you saying! Forfeit!”

“Just what it sounds like. I’m giving up.”

Cheong Myeong nonchalantly picked at his ear. Then, he blew on his finger and said in a lifeless voice.

“Congratulations. Shaolin wins.”

“Y-you…”

Beop Jeong trembled as if he would collapse.

His face was pale, his body was shaking, and his eyes were red with blood. It was clear how angry he was.

‘That devil should fall into hell…’

Forfeit, you say?

Did that even make sense?!

Everyone could see who had won. And everyone here could see clearly.

But to give up after winning?

Could there be a more ridiculous situation for the victor?

“Y-you… You!”

If this became known, Shaolin would be the laughingstock of the world.

“Y-you…!”

Beop Jeong stiffened as he was about to roar.

“Abbot!”

“Abbot! Get a grip, Abbot!”

“Uwaaaaargh!”

Beop Jeong vomited blood on the floor. The Shaolin disciples hurried around him.

Cheong Myeong smirked.

“What a strange fellow. Why is he vomiting blood?”

He glanced at Hae Yeon and Beop Jeong, then turned away.

Was it just to show off?

Maybe.

But it wasn’t just to humiliate Shaolin.

‘I don’t need this.’

Shaolin had prepared this competition.

The victor would receive glory because Shaolin had allowed it.

Was Mount Hua supposed to accept the glory that Shaolin was giving them?

‘What a joke.’

He didn’t need anything from Shaolin.

Accepting Shaolin’s honor meant agreeing with the martial arts world, led by the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families.

Cheong Myeong didn’t want to do that.

“Mount Hua will walk its own path.”

It wouldn’t be easy.

It might be harder than anything he had done so far.

But.

Cheong Myeong looked at the Mount Hua disciples, who were staring at him.

‘We can do it, right?’

Isn’t that right?

Sect Leader?

– You scoundrel!

I knew you’d curse me.

Oh well.

Cheong Myeong chuckled and walked towards the Mount Hua disciples.

– You did well.

Cheong Myeong looked up at the sky.

The blue sky, without a cloud, was looking down at him.

Cheong Myeong smiled at the sky and ran towards the Mount Hua disciples.

Shaolin won the Grand Martial Arts Competition, as everyone expected.

However.

The effects of the competition were unexpected.